


It's A Start

by firstdegreefangirl



Series: Chenford Week 2020 [5]
Category: The Rookie (TV 2018)
Genre: Banter, Chenford Week 2020, Developing Relationship, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Kiss, Flirting, Mild Angst, Second Kiss, Teasing, Tim almost ruins everything, Tim knows her so well, Undercover as a Couple, Workplace Relationship, as usual jackson and angela steal the show, based on brooklyn 99, fake engagement, for like half a second - Freeform, it's a good thing Lucy is brilliant, no third kiss though, poor Angela and Jackson, that's for later, they have to listen to everything go down, too well, working a case
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:55:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25314922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firstdegreefangirl/pseuds/firstdegreefangirl
Summary: “I’m sorry,” she says, running her finger across a printed diagram of the table layout on her podium. “We don’t have any open tables tonight.”Tim doesn’t say anything, but Lucy feels his fingers flex against the small of her back, where they’ve been resting since he held the door open for her to enter the restaurant ahead of him.“Oh,” Lucy whines quietly, looking between the hostess and her partner. “Even for a couple celebrating our engagement?” She leans forward, whispering conspiratorially. “I’ve only been waiting for him to pop the question for months now.”
Relationships: Tim Bradford/Lucy Chen
Series: Chenford Week 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1827838
Comments: 12
Kudos: 109
Collections: Chenford Week 2020





	It's A Start

**Author's Note:**

> as so many ideas do, this started with me screaming in Daisy's DMs. once we got to "but what if it was the Johnny and Dora date from Brooklyn 99, only Tim and Lucy?" I stopped screaming and wrote furiously for three days.
> 
> also, please know that I pictured Cass as Janice from Friends while I was writing her

“Alright, there we go.” Angela finishes taping the microphone wire around Lucy’s side and pulls her shirt back down. “Hang on, the receiver sticks out on your back. Uhhh,” They both look around the locker room, trying to find a way to conceal the little mic pack. There’s nothing lying around, but Angela shrugs out of her own jacket and passes it to Lucy. “Here, wear this. It’ll make you look even more badass, too.” 

She tucks her arms into the sleeves, feels the weight of the leather over her shoulders, soothing away a few of the nerves she’s feeling at the thought of this, her first real undercover mission. She can do this, she knows she can, knows that Tim wouldn’t have asked her to sit across from him at the restaurant if he didn't think she’s up for the task. He’d never set her up to fail like that, and he’s never once underestimated her abilities. 

If Tim says she can do this, she can do this. 

Besides, Angela’s jacket is a perfect fit, and Lucky takes it as a sign that things are meant to work out for her tonight. 

“Thanks. I’ve … I’ve got this.” But there’s hesitation at the edges of her voice, something Angela picks up on right away. She steps forward, adjusts the collar of the jacket and smooths invisible creases out of the shoulder. 

“Damn right you do. And remember, West and I are right outside in the van in case anything goes hinky. You and Bradford have your cover story, just stick to it and you’ll be good. Tim’s great at this stuff; you couldn’t ask for a better partner for this one.” 

Lucy knows she’s right, even if she has no idea if Tim is any good at undercover work or not. She couldn’t ask for a better partner than him, _ever,_ and that’s part of why her stomach is in knots. 

It’s only been a couple of weeks since she’s let herself come to terms with how she feels about Tim, all the things she’d like to ask of him, if only their situation was different. But she can’t ask him out, not with him being her training officer, her only two months out of the field training. 

And tonight, she has to sit with him at a fancy restaurant, pretend that they’re a couple and keep an eye on Raymond Dawes, a known drug runner, find out what his next plan is. 

All while not letting herself get too lost in the fantasy of being on a date with Tim. 

Their backstory is simple: a couple of coworkers, out for a nice dinner date. They’re not expecting anyone to ask a lot of questions, so they’d kept things straightforward, planning to let the easy rapport they’d developed over the last year carry them through the evening. 

Of course, that’s blown out of the water as soon as the hostess greets them. 

“I’m sorry,” she says, running her finger across a printed diagram of the table layout on her podium. “We don’t have any open tables tonight.” 

Tim doesn’t say anything, but Lucy feels his fingers flex against the small of her back, where they’ve been resting since he held the door open for her to enter the restaurant ahead of him. As soon as they were standing in the lobby, he’d pressed just hard enough into her skin to get her attention, nodded at a man in a high-end suit sitting across from a woman wearing a sparkly dress. 

_Their mark,_ she’d understood without him needing to say anything, and nodded just enough for Tim to see. 

“Oh,” Lucy whines quietly, looking between the hostess and her partner. “Even for a couple celebrating our engagement?” She leans forward, whispering conspiratorially. “I’ve only been waiting for him to pop the question for _months_ now.” 

When she moved, Lucy had expected that it would break the contact between herself and Tim, but he’d let his hand follow her, kept it warm and steady, even through her clothes. 

“Unfortunately, no. We’re all booked for tonight. Next time, I’d suggest booking a reservation in advance if you’re looking to celebrate such a special occasion.” She smiles, nodding her congratulations, and Lucy leans back, letting Tim’s arm take a little of her weight as she turns to look at him. 

“You didn’t make a reservation, honey?” His jaw is set, and Lucy can’t tell what it means, but his voice sounds strained when he responds a moment later. 

“I didn’t know if you were going to say yes.” He clears his throat, and his voice goes back to normal. “Didn’t want to jump the gun.” 

Lucy notices that he’s standing stock-still, spine perfectly straight. She doesn't think anyone else would be able to tell, but she knows him well enough to know that there’s only one way to describe him right now. 

“He was so _nervous!”_ She giggles, pressing one of her hands against the juncture between Tim's shoulder and his chest. “Isn’t that adorable?” 

His fingers flex again, twitching almost imperceptibly against the bottom of Angela’s jacket. The hostess smiles and answers the phone, which has just started to ring. While she’s waiting to see what happens next, Lucy grants herself a moment to stare at Tim’s face. 

After all, if they really had just gotten engaged, they wouldn’t be able to keep their eyes off of each other. She’s just keeping up her cover story, that’s all. She studies the sharp lines of his chin, the small worry lines forming at the corners of his mouth, how his hair has grown out just far enough for the ends to be a little bit looser than the crisp fade he normally wears. It’s still neat, authoritative, simple, but she’s sure he’ll be getting a haircut in the next week or so. 

It suits him, she decides, as the hostess hangs up the phone. His presence is still just as commanding as always, but there’s a hint of something that’s a little less uptight just beneath the surface. 

Tim is looking back at her, smiling just like he used to when Lucy managed a particularly good call in the shop, when she put the pieces together and made her training officer proud. 

The moment ends, though, when the hostess claps her hands together. 

“Well! You two are in luck; that was one of our reservations for tonight. They needed to cancel, so I’ve got a table I can offer you.” She uses two fingers to wave across the dining room, pointing out a table right next to the couple they’ve been watching subtly since they walked in. 

“That’d be _perfect.”_ Tim speaks up for the first time since Lucy asked him about the reservation, smiling and slipping the hostess a $20 bill when she reaches for their menus. “You’re really pulling me out of the fire tonight.” 

“Oh, you’re cute, thinking anything could ruin this night for me! Dinner or no dinner, I have the most wonderful _fiancé_ a woman could ask for!” 

On impulse, she rolls up to her toes and drops a soft kiss on Tim’s cheek. His light stubble tickles her lips, and she could be imagining things, but she thinks his face turns a little pink. 

They follow the hostess to their table, where Tim pulls Lucy’s seat out, somehow knowing exactly the right moment to push it forward again, leaving her the perfect distance from the edge of the table. 

She takes the menu that appears in front of her and smiles as the hostess steps back. 

“Your waiter will be by shortly. Enjoy your meal, and congrats again on the engagement!” 

Lucy looks down at the list of meal options, but she’s hardly started reading when a finely manicured hand appears on her arm. 

“I’m so sorry, I hate to interrupt you cutie pies, but I couldn’t help overhearing. The two of you just got _engaged?_ Congratulations! That’s incredible! Ray, baby, isn’t that just incredible?” 

“Yeah, incredible,” he murmurs around a sip of his drink. “Cass, sweetie, let’s leave them alone. I’m sure they want to enjoy their privacy.” 

“Don’t be silly, I’m not bothering them! Sweetheart,” she’s addressing Lucy again, and she hardly manages to avoid wrinkling her nose at the pet name from this woman she’s hardly met. “Am I bothering you?” 

She opens her mouth to respond, knowing exactly what she needs to say, and Tim’s foot nudges hers under the table. Lucy know he’s trying to get her attention, flicks her gaze over to him and catches the way he presses his lips together. She smiles at him, acknowledging what he’s trying to say, and turns back to their new “friends.” 

But Tim doesn’t move his foot, leaves it touching Lucy’s where no one can see, and really, that has to be about something more than the job, or he’d have pulled away once she’d gotten the signal. 

When she opens her mouth again, there’s a small gasp on the tip of her tongue, her breath catching just a bit before she says anything. 

“Of course not! Brad …" _No, not Bradford. If they’re engaged, she wouldn’t call him by his last name._ “Brad and I love meeting new people. Don’t we, babe?” 

Lucy surprises herself with how easily the endearment rolls off her tongue, but if Tim is even a little shocked, he hides it with a dazzling smile. 

“We sure do. Like she said, I’m Brad, and this is Lucy. My fiancée.” He turns the smile on her, and she’s nearly blinded with the force of it. 

It’s a bigger smile than she’s ever seen from Tim before; he’s clearly exaggerating his features for the benefit of their operation. But it’s not completely forced, and he reaches across the table to take her hand. 

They spend a few minutes listening to Ray and Cass introduce themselves, and when the waiter comes over, Tim orders Lucy a glass of her favorite Riesling. 

She doesn't remember telling him that it’s her favorite wine, but he still knows. Lucy can’t help wondering if Jackson tipped him off when they were getting ready, or if he’s paid closer attention than she gives him credit for when the group goes out after work. 

They’ve spent long enough listening to their dinner companions talk about their own relationship, offering all sorts of unsolicited advice – that Lucy is pretty sure she wouldn’t be interested in, even if she and Tim really were engaged – that it almost comes as a surprise when Cass throws a hand over her mouth and gasps. 

“Oh, but enough about us! What about you love birds? How’d you two meet?” 

“Work.” Lucy smiles, answering quickly. She tries to make sure her tone is light, almost wistful, like she’s recalling months and years worth of memories, not the cover story she and Tim had laid out in the roll call room two hours ago. 

At the same time, Tim almost ruins everything. 

“Uh, the airport.” 

Lucy hears Jackson’s snort of laughter in her earpiece, and almost immediately after, Angela’s voice crackles to life. 

“Hear that, Boot? When it’s your turn, do better. Stick to the truth, close as you can.” 

She hears Jackson start to complain about how he’d better not have to take a turn at dating Tim for a job, but halfway through his protest, Tim fakes a coughing fit to hide his reaction and the communication turns off. 

Clearly, they’d forgotten that the headsets were two-way. 

Before Ray and Cass can wonder too much about their different answers, Lucy looks between them and starts improvising. 

“We … work in the airport. LAX. I’m a gate agent, he’s a porter. Well, he was, when we met. You know, gets the bags from arriving guests, helps deliver them to the planes. We met when he was running through the terminal, trying to make sure a stroller was at the gate to meet an arriving flight. Poor guy, he was all turned around, needed to be on the other end of the entire airport. I felt bad and explained where he needed to be, then he asked for my number, ‘in case he got lost again.’ Wasn’t until we started dating that I found out he’d already worked there three months.” 

Tim’s foot presses down on hers, hard enough that she has to bite back a wince, and she knows she’ll be hearing about this later. 

Worth it, though. 

“Yeah,” His voice is strained, like he’s fighting to keep the irritation out of his tone. “But I didn’t ask her out until I’d quit that job. Couldn’t keep me out of the airport, though.” He drops back to his regular voice and looks right at Lucy as he says the next part. “I couldn’t go more than three days without seeing her face all the time, even from across the room. 

“So, now I manage one of the terminal newsstands.” 

As Tim finishes his story, Lucy slips her hand out of his, back underneath the table. She’s had enough friends get engaged that she knows what’s coming next. And much as she’d love to watch Tim explain away how he’d proposed without a ring, the most important thing is protecting their cover. 

“Well isn’t that just the cutest thing? Y’all are just the cutest things!” Cass smiles at Lucy again, holding her hand out. “Now let’s see the bling!” 

Lucy doesn’t miss a beat when she extends her own hand, wiggling her ring finger to draw everyone’s attention to it. Cass’s hands are ice cold when she wraps them around Lucy’s palm, and it takes all of her willpower not to pull away and slide her fingers back into Tim’s grasp. 

His hand had been warm, soft in all the right places, with a few calluses that Lucy assumes are from his games of pickup basketball, maybe from after-hours stints at the gym and shooting range. 

She catches the look on his face, quietly surprised and, if she’s not mistaken, a little bit proud. Knowing that she’s impressing Tim makes the smile on her own face a little bit bigger, and pushes just enough warmth from her heart throughout her body that she can stand Cass’s touch. 

“What, no diamond?” Her voice is grating, and Lucy knows that she’d be just as irritated if they weren’t at work. Who looks at another woman’s engagement ring and judges it out loud, right there in front of her? 

She's at a loss for words, but Tim takes a sip of his drink and shifts in his chair just enough to look like he’s engaged in the conversation. 

“This one? Hates diamonds, believe it or not. Something about how they’re harvested, I don’t know, went right over my head. Smartest woman I know, I’m telling you.” _She hadn’t mentioned that_ _to him either._ “But opals? Opals are her favorites. And this one, I’m telling you, it looks just like the full moon the night she gave me her number.” 

* * *

The full moon. Lucy knows exactly which moment he’s talking about. Even though her cell phone number was in the training file the LAPD had given him, she remembers writing it carefully on the back of one of her business cards, slipping it to him at the end of the shift after they’d first run into Isabel. 

“In case you … need an unbiased opinion,” she remembers saying when he’d looked at her like she’d crossed a line. Lucy had half-expected him to find a way to write her up for it, but instead he’d slid the card into his pocket. 

“Thanks,” he’d said, with no other fanfare, then nodded at her once and walked away. 

She can’t believe he remembered that, can’t believe it left such a mark on their relationship, especially considering he hadn’t called her that night, or any other, to take her up on the offer. 

* * *

But she can’t dwell on the moment for too long, because Cass’s voice breaks into her train of thought once again. 

“That’s _adorable!_ Ray, baby, that’s adorable. How come you’re never that adorable, baby? You just buy me diamonds. What if I didn’t like diamonds?” 

“But you do like diamonds.” 

“But what if I didn’t?” 

The couple continues bickering loudly, and Tim takes the opportunity to nudge Lucy’s foot again and nod toward the bar. 

“Excuse us,” he says, even though they’re not looking. “We’re going to go see if they can’t make this one an Aviation.” 

He offers Lucy his hand when he stands up, helping her to her feet. Tim’s grasp is still warm and comforting, and she tries not to let herself get used to the feeling, knows she can have this for tonight, and that’s it. 

They walk to the bar, where Tim helps her onto a stool and subtly waves the bartender away when she approaches. 

“Good save back there with the ring,” Lucy opens the conversation in a whisper, not wanting Tim to have the chance to comment on her improvised airport careers. “Is it just me, or are they really annoying?” 

Tim steps to Lucy’s other side, keeping Ray and Cass in their eyeline, and trails one arm around the back of her chair. 

He leans in close to her space, and she knows rationally that it’s all part of the act, that he’s making sure to play his part and look like a loving fiancé. 

“I cannot _stand_ that woman,” he whispers back. “She’s way too far into our business. But she’s even more talkative than you are, Boot, and there’s no way she’s totally in the dark on whatever Ray’s up to.” 

“Yeah, she’s got to know something. Think we can get it out of her?” 

“I think if she tries to ask about floral arrangements, you need to take my steak knife.” 

Lucy laughs, and Tim’s eyes go wide as he looks over her shoulder. 

“Tim?” 

“Shit, he’s … hang on. Angela, I swear to God, if you ever bring this up again.” 

Before Lucy can ask what he’s talking about, he’s pulling her down off of the stool gently, steadying her with an arm on her waist. 

All of a sudden, Lucy’s completely engulfed by Tim, by his arms, his scent, the way he towers over her and has to bend to invade her personal space. She sucks in an involuntary gasp of air, and then his lips are covering hers. 

Until this moment, she hadn’t let herself give any thought to what it might feel like to kiss Tim, but there’s no way she’d have been right about it. In all of her wildest dreams, she’d never have guessed that kissing Tim would be this _much_. He’s infiltrating every single one of her senses, running his free hand up her back until it’s cupping the side of her face. 

Lucy lets herself give in to the moment, tells herself that it’s all part of the job, she _has_ to kiss him back to keep up their cover. If she let herself think about it even a second longer, she’d know that they could have played this a half a dozen other ways, could have found another way to keep anyone from approaching them; even a kiss, they could have faked it and gotten the same results. 

But Tim is the only thing she can focus on, the only point of contact keeping her grounded to the here and now. He’s not trying anything, not building any extra intensity, but the hand on her hip slides around to her back, shifts until the length of his forearm is pressing alongside her spine. 

His hand spans the distance between her shoulder blades, holding her in place as she wraps her fingers around his shoulders. She’s kissing him back, she knows that, but is otherwise happy to let him take the lead, see how far he’s willing to go. 

Because she’d go anywhere, everywhere, if two of her friends weren’t listening in on the entire moment. And Tim hasn’t given any indications – the moment they’re sharing now notwithstanding – that he’s be interested in that. 

So she lets him control the kiss, decide when to step back and leave her breathless. 

“If he asks, they couldn’t make your cocktail,” he whispers into the space right beside Lucy’s mouth, before he steps back and turns to cross the dining room again. 

Lucy stands there, stunned, resisting the urge to press her fingers against her mouth. She’s trying to hold onto to the last fringes of the moment, commit it to her memory. 

But she can't stay at the bar forever, not when her “fiancé Brad” is back at the table. So she makes herself put one foot in front of the other and join him, sliding back into her chair just in time for the waiter to arrive and ask if they’re ready to order. 

She’s not, she’s hardly even looked at the menu, but when she looks up at Tim, she knows it wouldn’t matter if they gave her another hour. She’s not going to be able to focus on it. 

Tim must pick up on that, because he winks at her, then looks at the waiter. 

“I’ll do the 12 oz filet, and _my_ _fiancée_ will have the … Cajun pasta. No mushrooms. She's allergic.” He emphasizes ‘fiancée,’ like it’s the most exciting thing he’s ever said but he’s trying to keep his composure. If Lucy didn’t know the truth, she’d think he was sitting here with a woman he really had just proposed to. 

She takes a cursory glance at the menu, reads over a few of the options before handing it back to the waiter, and of everything on the list, she’s surprised to find that the Cajun pasta is the only entrée that really jumps out at her. 

Actually, it looks fantastic, with spicy sausage and chicken, and lots of fresh vegetables. Except the mushrooms, which Tim remembered she’s allergic to. And sure, it’s not like she keeps that a secret. After all the times she’s ordered salads for lunch on shift, she’s sure Tim has probably heard her mention the mushrooms a couple dozen times, at least. 

She just hadn’t expected him to _remember_ it. 

This time, when she looks up and smiles at him, there’s not a bit of an act to it. They’re not undercover as an engaged couple, his name isn’t Brad. They’re coworkers, and she’s maybe a little bit in love with him – even if he doesn't know that yet – and he keeps proving again and again how well he knows her. 

Lucy is getting ready to open her mouth, say something seeded in truth about how much attention he’s always paid to her. But before she can get the words out, Ray’s cellphone vibrates against the table. 

He glances down at the screen, then holds a finger up and cuts Cass off in the middle of her latest story. 

“Hold on, honey, I’ve got to take this. It’s work.” 

At that, Tim and Lucy look up at each other, eyes wide with anticipation. A second later, though, they both remember that they’re supposed to look like a couple, so Tim reaches for her hand again. Lucy lets him take it and takes a sip of her wine to keep herself from smiling _too_ obviously. 

Neither of them say anything, trying to listen closely enough to hear what Ray is saying. He’s whispering, so Lucy misses most of the words. But there’s no mistaking the last thing he says. 

“We’ll be there in 20 minutes.” he hangs up and looks at Cass. “C’mon, baby, that was the big boss. I’ve got to go. I’ll make it up to you, promise.” 

Cass sighs and drains her martini glass. 

“Lucy, honey, it was _so lovely_ to meet you and Brad! Really, the four of us should get together another time, actually get to have the meal.” 

“Yes!” Lucy stands up too, pulling the woman in for a short hug, knowing full well that by the end of the night, Cass will never want to see either of them. Which Lucy is completely OK with, given the way that she knows her head will be pounding for the next few hours at least, just from the sound of her voice. “Here, let me get your number.” 

She fishes a scrap of paper out of her purse, passing it to Cass with a wince and an apology for not having a pen. 

“Oh, not a problem! That’s what the menfolk are for, am I right? Brad, gorgeous, surely you’ve got something?” 

Lucy barely restrains her eye roll. Seriously, she’s here with her boyfriend, knows full well that Lucy is supposed to be engaged to Brad, and _still_ calls him ‘gorgeous’? 

But Tim is reaching into the lining of his coat, pulling out a ballpoint pen and handing it over. 

“This one, I tell you, she’d lose her head if it weren't attached.” His delivery is perfect, the fond exasperation, like he’s been carrying extra pens around for Lucy as long as he’s known her. 

(He hasn’t, it was _one time_ , she’d dropped hers down a storm drain trying to take a report. And the next day, Tim had dropped a Costco-sized multipack in front of her at roll. 

“Keep them in your kit. No excuses today, Boot.”) 

Cass hands the pen and paper back to Lucy, picks up her bag and follow Ray out of the restaurant. As soon as they’re out of earshot, Tim tips his chin down toward where Lucy knows his microphone is taped to his chest. 

“Hear that, Lopez?” 

“Sure did,” her voices comes back in Lucy’s ear. She resists the urge to reach up and adjust her earpiece, not quite used to hearing anything right against her eardrum. “We’re ready for you guys.” 

“Give it a second. Can’t look like we’re following them.” Tim rolls his eyes and looks back up at Lucy. “Can’t believe that lowlife left without shaking my hand.” 

“Right?” She laughs at the look of irritation on his face. “They just don’t make criminals with manners anymore.” 

Clearly, her comment catches Tim off guard, because he laughs loudly and it’s a sound of honest joy. 

“You’re absolutely right, Lucy.” He stands up, offering her his hand again, and leads her out of the dining room. “C’mon, let’s go talk some sense into them.” 

They stop briefly at the hostess stand, for Tim to apologize for their abrupt exit. He tells her that his fiancée “isn’t feeling well,” gently twisting his elbow into her abdomen until she gets the message and winces. 

“Must have been the oysters,” Lucy tries to groan convincingly. “Babe, please, can we go home now?” 

She must sell it well, because the hostess lets Tim hand her a couple of bills and waves them off with wishes to feel better soon. 

Then they’re back in the van, and as soon as the door is closed, Jackson is shoving Lucy in the shoulder, shaking with laughter. 

“Oysters, Luce? Should’ve just told her it was morning sickness, after how he was all over you back at the bar!” 

“Jackson!” Lucy groans, feeling the flush rising on her face. “Shut up!” 

“Seriously, Bradford,” Angela smirks across the van at them both. “You know we could hear that, right?” 

“Then you heard me tell you not to bring it up, didn’t you?” 

“Alright, fine, I can take a hint,” Lucy hears Tim mutter _not a hint, just an order_ , but Angela keeps ta l king over him. “Besides, you and _this one_ did good back there.”

When Lucy looks at Tim, the only word that comes to mind is ‘glower.’ He’s sitting up straight, like always, arms folded over his chest and staring daggers at his best friend. 

“Any intel on where we’re headed?” Tim says, by way of a response. Lucy tries to read enough from his face to know what’s going on in his head, but as usual, her old TO is something of an enigma when it comes to expressing his emotions. 

“Oh, there’s a really great sushi place up ahead,” Jackson cranes his neck to peer out the windshield. “I think we’re going that way, but Sterling and I went there a couple weeks ago. Best nigiri I’ve-” 

“I don’t think they’re going to drop off a major drug supply at a sushi joint, West.” Tim grumbles and Lucy has to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from giggling. 

The van rocks as Angela turns abruptly, following a blue coupe down a residential street. 

“That’s them, right, West?” Jackson sits up onto his knees in the back of the van. 

“Yep, Nine-L-N-R-four-seven-two.” Jackson points at the fender of the car, where the license plate reflects their headlights. “Fall back a bit, we can see them and don’t want to be noticed.” 

“Who trained who here?” Angela rolls her eyes, but taps the breaks and increases the distance between the vehicles. This time, it’s Tim’s turn to snicker, but he doesn’t get to make any sarcastic remarks before Angela speaks up again. “Think they’re heading for Pan Pacific?” 

Lucy thinks about the layout of the park, how much open green space there is. It certainly isn’t the sort of place she’d expect a massive drug deal to go down, but she immediately comes up with a handful of ways they could pull it off. 

“Maybe they’re switching vehicles?” She asks, looking at Tim in the dim lighting. 

“Smart, Chen. Could be getting ready to head for a drop site too.” 

“But we don’t have to go with them,” Lucy begins, and Jackson finishes the sentence with her, remembering the long nights gathered around the California penal code, reciting the laws together. 

“As long as we get verbal or written confirmation that a crime is occurring or imminently occurring. That’s probable cause.” 

“it’s terrifying when you guys do that.” Angela looks back at them in the rearview mirror, then back to the street. “But yeah, almost definitely going to the park. What do you think, West, our lovebirds up for a little moonlit stroll?” 

“For sure. Just remember that Lopez and I can hear everything. Luce, I don’t need that kind of trauma.” 

Angela pulls up around the corner from the park, motioning for Tim and Lucy to get out of the van. 

They’re not in character yet, but after he’s on the pavement, Tim holds out his hand, helping Lucy out of the vehicle. As the van pulls away, he doesn’t let go, even though they’ve got a few blocks to walk before they’re at any chance of needing to reassume their cover. 

Lucy thinks about pulling her hand away, making some comment about blurring the lines between their lives and their false identities. Instead, she focuses carefully on not moving her fingers too much, resisting the desire to squeeze Tim’s hand. 

Because the truth is, she wants these particular lines to be so blurry that they can’t smooth things out at the end of the night. If Lucy had it her way, she and Tim wouldn’t be pretending to be a couple anymore, they’d just be sharing each other’s lives. 

But as it is, she’ll take what she can get. And that means holding Tim’s hand, warm and steady and solid in hers, carefully not doing anything to draw his attention to the connection, lest he let go before she’s finished savoring the feeling. 

They’re still holding hands when they come over the top of a hill and see a man sitting alone on a park bench. It’s hard to tell from behind, but Lucy thinks he looks a bit like Ray, so she tugs on Tim’s arm to get his attention and points at him. 

“Ray?” Tim voices her thought, and she nods. 

“I think.” They slow down, walking closer and waiting to see what happens next. 

Sure enough, they’re only a few hundred yards away when another man walks over and sits down next to him. They greet one another, and Lucy feels Tim bristle next to him. 

“So he’ll shake that dude’s hand?” 

“I think that’s his boss, so probably so, yes.” She pulls him over to a nearby tree, backing herself up until she’s leaning against the trunk. “Now would you stop whining and help hold our cover?” 

“Wha-” Feeling suddenly brazen, Lucy pushes a finger up against Tim’s lips. 

“Shh, if you _listen,_ we can _hear them.”_

Tim raises an eyebrow, braces himself with one arm over Lucy’s head. She wraps one of hers around his waist, and she’s confident that anyone walking by would just assume that they’re making out. 

Lucy forces herself to move her gaze away from Tim’s face and look over his shoulder. She had tried to guess where they would need to be positioned against the tree to get the vantage point she needed, and is silently thrilled to find that she was right. Not only can they hear most of what the two men are saying, but she can keep an eye on them too. 

“I can see them,” she whispers, hardly making any noise in the space between their mouths. Tim smiles at her, visibly proud, and she finds herself momentarily heartbroken. As much as his approval means in the workplace, she’d hoped that the first time he’d smile at her from this position would be for a vastly different reason. 

But she can’t dwell on that for long, because Ray is standing up and turning to face the other man, leaving him looking at a profile view of Lucy and Tim. 

“OK, he’s … wait, Tim-” but then there’s no more time for a lead-in, because Ray is looking right at them. And there’s really no good reason that two people would be leaning against each other and a tree, and not be kissing. 

So Lucy leans up, stands on her toes and kisses Tim for the second time that night. It’s just as sweet as the first, the same tingles up and down her spine when Tim rests his hand at the small of her back and pulls her closer. 

Lucy runs her hand up from Tim’s waist, buries it in his hair and holds him against her mouth. She can’t remember the last time someone kissed her like this, deeply and passionately and like she was the only thing that mattered in the world. Even if she knows that isn’t true, that Tim is almost certainly paying attention to the men in the distance too. 

If he kisses like this when he’s dividing his attention, Lucy is pretty sure she’d melt under the force of his complete focus. 

The kiss falls apart, though, when Ray calls to them across the distance. 

“Brad? Lucy?” 

“Shit,” Tim murmurs, pulling away from Lucy and resting one hand over his eyebrows, like he’s trying to block out the sunlight. 

Lucy would find it entertaining, how he’s trying to shield himself from the brightness of a slivered crescent moon, if she weren’t trying to catch her breath against the tree trunk. 

“Ray?” She distantly hears Tim ask the other man’s name as a question. “Small world, man!” 

“What are the two of you doing out here? Didn’t you get your dinner?” 

“We were going to,” Tim starts, looking between Ray and Lucy. “But with the way this one was running her foot along my leg, I just couldn’t keep my hands off of her. You know how it is.” 

It’s almost completely dark, and they’re a good distance away, so Ray misses the way Tim winces at the statement, like he feels bad for even hypothetically acting untoward around a woman. 

“Well I couldn’t help it, what with how you kept looking at me over the edge of your glass. Can I help it if I’m getting married to the sexiest man alive?” Lucy pushes off of the tree and steps forward to wrap her arm around Tim’s, leaning her weight against his side. “Even if he gets lost all the time. Do you guys know how to get to the pier from here? Brad said he knew where we were going, but I sure don’t see a pier.” 

“Babe. I’ve got it.” Tim grits his teeth, feigning annoyance. “We don’t need to ask for directions; I’m just taking the scenic route.” 

“’Scenic route’ to where? Bakersfield?” 

She glances at the men, notices that Ray’s partner is growing impatient. Sure enough, when she leans away from Tim, he growls at Ray. 

“Enough with the reunion, Raymond. We’ve got work to do.” 

“Oh, where do you work?” Lucy acts oblivious, like she’s looking for small talk. “Is it toward the pier? Maybe they can show us a faster way, Brad.” 

“We don’t need a faster way, I’m getting us there just fine. Or I was, until you told me to stop the car, because you could walk there faster than I was driving.” 

“15 miles an hour! In a 30! Who _does_ that? Oh, right, people who can’t find the right terminal at the airport, never mind the pier!” 

“I know damn well where the pier is!” Tim shakes Lucy off of his arm, throwing his hands in the air and building his voice to a shout. “And I know how to find Terminal C too! It’s where we met after all.” 

Lucy freezes for a second, unsure of what to say next. But the longer she’s quiet, the better she knows her next line has to be. Finally, it comes to her and she steps back into Tim’s space, pushing him back by the shoulders. He doesn't fall, but she catches him by surprise and he rocks back on his heels as she yells back. 

“Terminal C? We met at Terminal D, you idiot! You really think I’d work in Terminal C? For _Fleet Air?”_ It’s a stretch, Lucy knows. She hasn’t got any idea which airlines are where in LAX, but she’s willing to bet that no one else does either. “I knew you didn’t know directions, but I thought you knew me!” 

Then she takes a deep breath and twists the knife. 

“Maybe you don’t. Not well enough to get married!” She pulls the ring off of her finger and throws it at Tim, who catches it against his chest and stares down at it incredulously. 

She looks around again, sees that her outburst is garnering attention from other passersby. Their suspects notice it too, judging by the way that they’re eyeing each other nervously. 

“Hey, take it easy, baby doll.” Ray takes a couple of steps toward Lucy, raising his hands like he’s talking to a scared animal. “No need to get loud now, just calm down.” 

“Ray, let it go,” the new man says, rolling his eyes. “We’ve got to get there before the shipment comes in. Don’t worry about the little girl.” 

Lucy glares at him. Even now, when she’s playing a character, she can’t stand men patronizing her like this. Or anyone, really, but it seems to be men an overwhelming majority of the time. Like now, when Ray is still easing his way closer to Lucy. She’s smaller than he is, by a decent margin, but she’s also pretty sure that he wouldn’t be expecting her to try and fight him. Besides, she knows everything she learned in the academy, and from Harper, and from her field experience. 

She could take him. She’s pretty sure of it. 

But before he comes close enough, before she’s got a good angle for her first move, Tim is nudging his way between them. 

“Hey, you might want to reconsider that.” For a man who’s theoretically just been broken up with, Lucy notices that Tim looks awfully defensive of her. He’s drawn up to his full height, shoulders tense and jaw set in a tight line. “Nobody gets to talk to her like that. Especially not you.” 

He’s growling, but Ray doesn’t step back. 

“Yeah, what’re you going to do? She doesn’t want to marry you, buddy.” 

“Doesn’t mean I’m going to stand here and listen to you disrespect her. Besides,” Tim glances over his shoulder at Lucy and reaches behind his back. He waits a couple of seconds for her to register the signal, then pulls his gun from the holster at the small of his back. “LAPD! Hands on your head!” 

Lucy saw the movement, and is only a moment behind Tim in drawing her own weapon from the inside lining of Angela’s jacket. 

(Someday she really needs to find out where to get accessories with built-in holsters). 

“Don’t move!” She steps around Tim, training her focus on the drug boss. “Interlace your fingers, we are police partners!” 

“Facedown on the ground, both of you! Do not move!” Tim’s next command comes from over her shoulder. 

“Crap, really?” Roy listens to the orders, laying on his stomach with his hands behind his head. Lucy watches Tim brandish a pair of cuffs from his pocket, reaches for her own in her purse and fastens them around her suspect’s wrists. “Gotta say, I’m glad the two of you are back together, though. You guys are cute.” 

Lucy looks up to see Tim’s reaction, only to find that he’s staring right back at her with an expression she can’t make heads or tails of. 

_No surprise there._

Neither of them get to respond, though, because Jackson and Angela are running up from the bottom of the hill. Lucy can just make out their van parked against a curb, red and blue lights flashing in the windows. 

The next hour passes in a frenzy of marked cars and reports, briefing Grey and booking the suspects. Tim passes her ring back, no fanfare this time, and she slips it back onto her right hand. Angela only needs 10 minutes to get Ray to buckle, and SWAT is able to meet the shipment at Van Nuys. With the amount of product they recover, it’s likely that Lucy has just become part of a record-breaking drug bust, keeping close to $5 million in cocaine off the streets. 

It’s a good feeling, rewarding to know that she’s using her training to prevent more crimes from happening, not just recording them after the fact. She’s thrumming with excitement, wound tight under the thrill of her biggest career achievement to date. Grey claps her on the shoulder, smiling when he tells her that she represented Mid-Wilshire well tonight. 

Still, there’s an undercurrent of disappointment running between all of her other thoughts. 

This is it. It’s over. She’s had a date with Tim now, even if it was all part of her job, but she’s going to have to shrug it off like nothing happened. She hates to think about how easily Tim will probably move on, compartmentalize it like he does everything else. He might even laugh about it down the road, “hey, Boot, remember that time I had to wine and dine you to catch the drug dealer?” 

That thought hurts worse than the rest of it, and Lucy finds herself fighting back tears in the locker room as she shoves her arms into the sleeves of her favorite hoodie. It’s usually a comforting garment, warm and broken in, but tonight the only thing she can think of is how it feels less comforting than Tim’s hand in hers. 

Her after-work plans quickly go from maybe asking Jackson to watch a movie with her to stopping at the gas station for an overpriced pint of her favorite ice cream and some heat-lamp churros, then spending the rest of the night in her room, pretending things are OK, when they’re really not. 

But of course, _of course_ , Tim ruins those plans too. 

Because she’s halfway across the parking lot when he calls out to her, using her first name to break the silence of the night. 

“Lucy! Hey,” Tim jogs to cover the distance between them. “I wanted to catch you before you left. You did good tonight, Boot. Thought on your feet, rolled with the punches.” 

She should say something, she knows she should. Probably something snarky, with a genuine edge, like telling him that she’d treated the night like one long Tim Test. Or maybe a heartfelt comment about how she wouldn’t have been able to pretend that well on a date with anyone else, because she was only half-pretending all along. 

Saying any of that would mean opening her mouth, though, and she’s not sure that she’ll be able to do that without choking on a sob. And wouldn't that be the perfect end to the evening: crying in the division parking lot after Tim told her she did a good job? 

So she doesn’t say anything. But she doesn’t move either. She just stands there, staring at the center of his chest, where the wire had been placed earlier. It’s gone now, she knows, removed and stored away with her own mic rig, but she still can’t shake the feeling that the wrong person is going to overhear her thoughts. 

Granted, part of her thinks that Tim might be that wrong person, but as always, he sees right through her. 

“Lucy? Everything alright? You look like you want to throw up. Or run away. Or both.” Tim chuckles, wedging his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He’s trying to add some levity to the situation, she can tell, but she’s not up for the lightheartedness right now. Tim is expecting an answer, though, so she sighs and hopes she can say something without crying. 

“Yeah, just … I don’t want things to be weird between us. After earlier. At … at the bar, and then at the park. When we …" She trails off and looks down, running her fingers through her own hair in an attempt to burn off even a little bit of idle energy. 

“When we kissed.” Tim sounds so matter-of-fact about it that Lucy nods before she realizes what’s happening. “Don’t worry about it. Part of the job, right? We can put it behind us, forget it ever happened.” 

That isn’t what Lucy wants at all. She could go along with it, ignore everything that happened tonight, pretend she and Tim never sat across from each other at that fancy restaurant. She’d be OK, she knows, eventually. 

But she doesn’t want to be OK. She doesn’t want to settle for one night when she wants 10, a hundred, a thousand, if Tim will give them to her. 

And there’s only one way to find out. 

So she takes a half-step closer to him. It’s not enough to crowd him, not enough that he has to step back to reclaim his personal space. But it’s intentional, and she knows he picks up on that. His eyes widen when he looks down at her, curiosity written across his expression. 

“What if I don’t want to forget it?” She takes a deep breath, knowing that the next sentence is the real risk. “But I have to say, I’d rather kiss Tim than Brad.” 

He doesn’t say anything, and there’s a moment where Lucy is pretty sure she’s just ruined everything. Her mind starts reeling, trying to make its peace with having an answer, even if it’s not the answer she wanted. It’s better than not knowing, right? _Right?_

But it’s not. It’s not better at all. 

Except then, Tim is opening his mouth, smiling at her and taking a half-step of his own. 

“Dinner first.” He leans down until his breath is hot on her ear. “After all, we didn’t get to eat earlier. I owe you a meal. Veggie burger? With extra pickles? My treat.” 

And really, who is she to turn down an invitation like that? He knows she’s got a weakness for veggie burgers. 

So when he steps back and holds out his hand, she takes it. Again. Only this time, it’s real. It’s them, Tim and Lucy, heading for his truck, so he can buy her dinner. No faking, no undercover. 

“Dinner sounds great,” Lucy leans toward him, letting the ends of her hair brush his bicep. “Not as good as what’ll come after, but it’s a start.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm just saying, I'd pay GOOD MONEY to see them fake date in canon


End file.
